


Bounce Fatigue

by bees_stories



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Homesickness, IN SPACE, M/M, emotional hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 17:33:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4970038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bees_stories/pseuds/bees_stories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack agrees to do an errand for a friend even though Ianto has negotiated them a job hauling freight with a hard start date. As might be expected, Ianto is none too pleased. Now he has to work out why.<br/>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/4903498">The first ride is always a rough one</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Bounce Fatigue

* * * 

"I don't understand you sometimes, Jack."

Ianto didn't like to think that he'd been sulking, but even he could recognise the peevish tone in the first words he'd spoken since they had lifted off from Mentat Prime, six hours previously. The truth was even though he had initially been grateful for Jack arranging upgraded transmat privileges, his gratitude had soured when he learnt that the favour Jack had exchanged was payable immediately, and it would likely cost them the lucrative employment contract that had brought them to Mentat Prime in the first place. 

Jack replied with a cheeky grin. "Good. Then you'll never get bored with me." He flipped a couple of switches, checked the readouts, and then made a course correction that would put the shuttle on the proper approach vector for Mentat Secont.

Ianto blew out a frustrated breath, working himself up to speak his mind. "I worked hard to negotiate that contract. Good wages. A full rotation's worth of steady employment." He gave Jack a sharp look to convey his frustration. "We could have used that money." 

Jack reached over and put his palm on the knee of Ianto's flight suit and stroked it in a conciliatory manner. "The other job will be there when we get back. I promise." 

Ianto pulled his gaze away from the field of stars on the view-screen and raised a sceptical eyebrow as he pointedly removed Jack's hand from his leg and returned it to the shuttle's manoeuvring yoke. "I still don't know how you can know that." 

Jack was the epitome of confidence as he swivelled in his chair. "Because Bari said it would be, and I trust him. Bari knows the head of the spice consortium. They play Sachi once a week." 

"Play what?" Ianto searched his memory, but Sachi hadn't been mentioned in any of the materials he had read about the Mentat system.

Jack seemed to struggle for an analogy. Finally he said, "Think golf, but with bowling balls and much bigger clubs. Point is, you don't have to worry, Ianto. We'll be back on Mentat Prime before you know it, and your reputation as a trustworthy and dependable person will be completely untarnished."

Somewhat mollified, Ianto nodded. They would only be a day late, two at the most, for their scheduled arrival. And the spice season _was_ just getting started. If he explained they had been unfortunately detained by unforeseen circumstances, then surely allowances could be made, and maybe they wouldn't lose their places on the shipping roster after all.

Jack rose from the pilot's chair. He crossed the crew cabin with long-legged strides and disappeared into the galley. When he came out again, a few minutes later, he was holding a pair of steaming mugs filled with hatcha, the local stimulant of choice. He handed one of the mugs over to Ianto and then took a careful sip from his own. Finally, he asked, "What's really bugging you, Ianto? You haven't been yourself lately." 

Ianto inhaled fragrant steam from the mug of hatcha. It reminded him of lemon and ginger biscuits and he had to resist the urge to sigh. He had been asking himself that question for several weeks, and hadn't yet come up with a satisfactory answer. Jack was looking at him as if he had all the time in the world. Though he wasn't sure of his feelings, it seemed as if he was going to have to come up with at least a working theory as to why life in general, and Jack's impulsiveness in particular, was getting him down.

"I'm not sure, exactly." Ianto struggled to find the right words that would succinctly convey his mindset. Finally, he shrugged, and then he looked up at Jack with a rueful smile. "I suppose, if I had to put a name to it, I'm homesick." 

Jack's eyes narrowed and he cocked his head to the side, regarding Ianto thoughtfully. "Homesick? _For Wales_?"

Jack said Wales like it was the last place he wanted to be. And maybe, after finally shaking the dust of Earth from his boots and returning to space, it was. When he had suggested they go travelling, Jack had said it was because he wanted to show Ianto what life was like beyond Torchwood, where the aliens were just people, and the Universe wasn't something to be feared, because it was rife with possibilities. 

For the most part, he had enjoyed their travels, and their adventures, but there were things about Earth he missed. Real coffee for one, although some of the alternative beverages, like the hatcha he was currently sipping, had been nearly as satisfying. At odd times he yearned for the sound of other voices whose pitch and inflection mirrored his own, especially when they were raised in song. When he looked at foreign seascapes sometimes he found them lacking when compared to rugged stretches of shale-covered Welsh coastline, and he longed for the view of the Cardiff cityscape from the lighthouse at Flat Holm. But as Ianto struggled to define his discontent he realised it wasn't Earth, or Wales as such he was longing for, but something else. 

It had something to do with their aimless wandering, of that much he was certain. Exploring different planets and cultures was interesting. Learning the ways and means of different planets. Constantly pushing the boundaries of his comfort zone by trying new foods and having to co-exist within differing cultural norms was certainly educational, enjoyable, and at times, even exciting. But unlike the old days of Torchwood, there was rarely even an approximation of familiar and comfortable surroundings to return to at the end of a day.

Ianto nodded. "Sometimes, yes. But that's not it exactly." 

"What then?" Jack dropped back into the pilot's chair, and after taking a sip from his mug, spun the chair so that he was facing Ianto. 

The potent citrus-ginger scent of hatcha had permeated the crew cabin, sharpening all of his sense. Ianto looked down into the depths of his mug as he framed his reply. The spice hauling job would have meant stability. It would have meant a chance to put down some roots of a sort, and for a while, at least, to have a real home. Two of them, actually, since he had negotiated private accommodations at both of the primary bases that anchored the haulage routes.

He followed that train of thought, latching onto the word _home_ and considered what it represented to him. 

_Home_ meant a place to truly unwind at the end of a day. There would be no obligation to accept boisterous invitations to join workmates for whatever passed as the local version of carousing, as they often did when they were billeted in barracks or hostels. 

_Home_ meant a sense of stability. Having a place where they could unpack their rucksacks and holdalls for more than a few days or weeks at a time and feel as if they belonged, at least within the confines of their own walls.

 _Home_ was a place where he and Jack could have true privacy. They could be themselves. On their own, they could drop whatever masks they found it necessary to assume in public spaces. They could discuss the local culture without fear of embarrassing themselves, or causing unintentional offence. They could completely and utterly relax. 

Ianto blinked as he absorbed the small epiphany. It had been ages since he had felt completely at ease. As a tourist, he was always on eggshells. He looked up at Jack, finally able to explain his discontent. 

"I'm not homesick for a place." He shook his head and grimaced, knowing that he had started out badly. "What I mean is, I'm not homesick for Wales, I'm homesick for a place to call home." He looked at Jack uncertainly. "Does that make any kind of sense?"

For a few moments Jack's expression was equally uncertain, and then he smiled brightly. "I get it! You're not _homesick_ homesick, you've got _bounce fatigue_."

"Bounce fatigue?" Ianto repeated uncertainly. 

Jack nodded as he put his mug aside. "It's what we used to call it when I was in the Forces. Getting bounced from place to place, from campaign to campaign, after a while, all you wanted was somewhere, any somewhere, to just stop and – " He raised his left hand, held it horizontally in front of his chest, and circled it twice. "– just process what you're going through." His expression became regretful as he sank back in his chair.

"I'm sorry, Ianto. I should have realised. But you've taken to all of this like a duck to water and it just never occurred to me you might – " He looked down at the mug Ianto was cradling between his palms and seemed to have an epiphany of his own. "So that's why the spice hauling job was so important to you." 

Everything seemed to fall together, now that he had the pieces in the right order. Ianto nodded. "I think so. Yeah. It's not that I haven't enjoyed this life, Jack, I have, more than I can express. It's just – " He shrugged, because Jack had already summarised the situation better than he could.

"Don't apologise." Jack smiled rather ruefully. "Now that you mention it, I'm a little bounce fatigued myself." He shook his head, as if bemused. "It's funny how sometimes you don't realise what's going on in your own head until someone else points it out for you." 

"Is that why the last couple of jobs have been – " Ianto paused, not wanting to inadvertently hurt Jack's feelings. "– daring? You fighting your own sense of travel fatigue by trying to liven things up?"

Jack chuckled, and he put his hands up, palms out. "You sussed me. I think you understand me better than you think, Ianto Jones." 

Ianto smiled his relief. He felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He put his mug on the control console and rose to stand behind Jack. He put his hands on Jack's shoulders, massaging them through the fabric of his flight suit. 

When Jack looked up to meet Ianto's gaze, he was smiling as well. But it was no longer a sad smile tinged with regret, but a happy smile filled with anticipation. There was a sparkle in his eyes that Ianto knew well. Jack was contemplating the possibilities. "Our own place." 

"Yep," Ianto said as he lowered the zip of the flight suit a few inches. He slipped his hands underneath the fabric and grazed the skin over Jack's collarbones with the pads of his fingertips.

Jack made a humming sound that was punctuated with a sigh. "No billet-mates?" 

"Nope." Ianto let his caress drift a little lower. They had another hour before they dropped into orbit and then made their final descent to Mentat Secont. The shuttle wasn't exactly the Ritz, but they were alone, and at other times, in other circumstances, they had made do with much less comfortable surroundings. And now that they were back in accord with one another, his libido – which over the last weeks had gone into hibernation – was now roaring back to life. He grazed his fingertips over Jack's nipples and felt them harden in response to his touch. "Just think of it." 

Jack reached up. He pulled Ianto down into his lap and into a deep and passionate kiss. When they separated he said, "Oh, Ianto, believe me when I say, I am." 

And what Jack did next gave Ianto every reason to believe he was being completely sincere.

end


End file.
